


Pies prompt fic

by howardmoon (iamjustabi)



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Crack, Crack Fic, F/M, Kinda, M/M, Pies, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2198139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamjustabi/pseuds/howardmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fed up with his inability to impress the lovely maiden with his pies, the General orders one of those huge cakes that strippers jump out of.  The twist?  He’s the stripper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pies prompt fic

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first go at trying to write in a funny way and I honestly don't know if I'm any good or not, so please don't stab me if this is rubbish and unfunny. Hope you enjoy it! Also I apologise for any spelling or grammatical errors, but I still don't have a beta.

The General had been frustrated for many a year over the deep complexities of women: those fair, elegant creatures that were radiant during the daylight and became merry and free during the night hours. Forever did it puzzle him: why it was that he, a man in a high position with good, steady income and an absolutely beautiful and luxurious mustachio, could find it so impossible to discover the correct techniques of wooing the one particular maiden he had on his mind. She wasn’t much of a looker: she had strange, angular features- so different to the other women he had seen in his many years- and she dressed plainly- just a simple black dress and shawl for her, not the lavish and bright colours of the Moscow nightlife that the other women would regale themselves in, however the General couldn’t get this mysterious lady out of his mind.

The General had tried long and hard to charm her, but to no avail, she would not be wooed with his delicious pastry goods. He mainly stayed with what had worked well before- usually the ladies of Russia would all swoon over his pies- but no, not this one. At first, the General was sure she was just playing a game, playing hard to get; a love game of sorts, but now he wasn’t so sure. One time, instead of a pie, he had even tried a strudel, but no: she still was not satisfied.

The General was now lounging on his arm chair in the warmth of his home by the fire, pondering on what he could do. Maybe he could offer her a large pie- he could trundle it along in a wheel barrel and present it to her in a more simple way, for she was a simple woman after all. No, no… He was being unimaginative. He had to think bigger and better. Yes! That was it! Bigger! No more would the General offer his love the simple pie, but instead a luxurious and delectable cake! The biggest cake he could find! He was going to find biggest cake in the whole of Russia, purchase it and present it to his sweetheart, and he would do it now!

The General rushed through the harsh snows of Russia to reach the bakery. He hoped it was still open at midnight. He was in luck- just as the shop keepers were about to close for the night, he reached the door.

“Stop!” yelled the General.

“Alright?” replied a dark haired shop keeper.

“Good morn to you sir!” replied the second- he had quite the handsome moustache and looked like just the man he could respect and maybe with time, even learn to love like a brother, thought the General.

“Morn? Howard, its midnight, what are you talking about?” exclaimed the first of the two shop keepers.

“Well, Vincent, it is precisely now twelve hours and forty two minutes. It is the new day!” said the moustachioed one.

“Ah. Alright then, fair do’s.” said the other.

“Good day bakers!” proclaimed the General, “May I purchase your baked goods?”

“Yeah, why don’t ya come on in.” said Vincent, who was beginning to remind him of his lady love just a touch.

“Yes, come on right in good sir” said the other.

“I am in need of the biggest cake you have.”

“Well, I’m sure we can get you that,” Cheerily said Vincent, “What do y’need it for, a party? I love parties.”

“I would love to say however it would be inadvisable, as a gentleman, to tell you.” The general wanted to protect his sweetheart’s modesty and would never want to let gossip spread about her.

“Ohhhh, I know exactly what you mean, General. Poor, sweet, naïve, innocent Vincent- let me take over from you. I know what the General needs.”

“I’m sure you do. From what I’ve experienced, you’re very good at satisfying needs, why just last night-”

Mister Howard began to blush most thoroughly. “Vincent! Come on, General, we men of action and honour need not hang about with the likes of Vincent.”

“Oh really? You were quite happy to let it all hang out with me earlier when I was-”

If it were possible, the cheeks of the second shop keeper managed to turn an even darker shade of pink. “Vincent! Again! Please! This way, General, let us speak in my office.”

“Lead the way, Mister Howard.”

The two entered the cosy office of Mister Howard and settled down onto two chairs.

“So I’m going to keep this brief General, most of our customers looking for the cake of your kind want to keep it that way. All I need to know is your address and if you will be in need of any, ahem, assistance.”

“Assistance?” thought the General. No! He would deliver it to his love, completely by himself. Pastry spoke a thousand words, and he didn’t want any of them to be spoken to his dearest by anyone but himself, no sir!

“Good sir, I shall be in need of no assistance!” proudly stated the General. “I shall write down my address for you.” He paused to do so “There you go!” The general presented Mister Howard with a piece of parchment with his address written on it. “Good day!” said the General, as he left the office and bakery and returned to his home to await the arrival of the biggest cake in the entirety of Russia.

Dawn came and arrived, and when the General awoke, on his doorstep his saw the shape of a ginormous package. “It must be the cake!” He realised, and jumped out of bed so he could deliver it to his strange and beautiful lady.

The general opened the box to reveal the cake. It was a very strange cake, however for his love that would probably be fitting. The cake didn’t seem to be made of sponge and icing, but rather of painted wood and plastic. There also seemed to be a small sort of doorway at the top of the cake. 

“Perfect!” the General exclaimed. Not only could he present his love with a cake, but he could present himself to her inside the cake! He believed he had seen this happen before, at one of his army colleagues stag parties he attended many moons ago. Now what was the usual attire for this sort of thing, he pondered. He remembered tassels, and not much else. He decided the ones on his curtains would have to do.

The General used a knife to hack at his curtains, and he managed to remove the tassels on them. Where on the body they were placed, he couldn’t quite remember. He thought maybe the nip- no, no it couldn’t be- that was far too provocative, especially for the kind of woman he was in love with. It must have been the dimples they were placed. Unfortunately, the General had no dimples. The ends of his moustache would have to do, he decided, as he sellotaped them on.

The General managed to push the cake to the small cottage of his lady love, and knocked on the door loudly before quickly clambering into the peculiar cake.

Melinda opened her door to see a large cake. By now she was used to seeing pastry on a daily basis, what with the General offering her all his pies. Couldn’t he understand that she didn’t need the thousand words that pastry had to offer, just three simple ones. However, the situation she was currently in, was different to the usual, for the General was nowhere to be in sight. Little did Melinda know; that when you lose sight of the General, your other senses strengthen.

“Would…” Melinda heard the mysterious, if slightly muffled sounds, of the General’s voice from, what appeared to be, was from within the cake.

“You like…” The voice continued…

“A CAKE?!” shouted the voice, and as if on cue, the General leaped out of the cake, completely stark naked, with nothing but the tassels on his moustache.

“Good god!” thought Melinda. Before, the pastries did nothing for her, but now she was completely and utterly in love. Maybe it was the size of the cake, maybe it was the General’s naked body in the freezing Russian winter, but now all Melinda could do was embrace the general and say: “Yes, General! I would love a cake!”

And they all lived happily ever after. The End.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Melinda is meant to be a shop dummy but yeah I wanted her to be the Russian lady... So yeah! Hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
